Vin There, Drank That

Tag: diploma-in-wine

  • The Shape of Acid: Looking our Wine Square in the Eye

    After peaking the vertical acid structure and feeling like I could identify horizontal acid shapes in my sleep, I expanded my acid shape journey: squares, waves, rainfalls, and more.

    Let’s look at some “square-like” shapes next!

    The Set-Up: Let’s Get Fair and Square

    To compare two different square-like acid shapes, I again chose two grape varieties with naturally high levels of acidity: Assyrtiko and Albariño. 

    This keeps acid intensity out of mind as we sip so we can focus entirely on where the wine hits. Both of these varieties share a remarkably similar flavor palates: crisp, citrus, zesty lemon, and minerality.

    To taste them in their purest expression, I selected benchmark examples from their respective homelands: an Assyrtiko from Greece and an Albariño from Spain. 

    The Assyrtiko Sandwich: Feredini Art. Karamolegos Winery 2023 (Santorini, Greece)

    • Aroma:  Lime, earthiness, light smoke, salinity. 
    • Flavors: Light lean and crisp citrus – lemon peel, lime zest. Minerality, dry stone.
    • Acid: High, with an almost square-like acid feel in my mouth.

    Drunk alone, this wine makes me want to stretch my lips long and pucker at the same time. 

    The acid locks into a square-like perimeter. If I pucker, it softens the top and bottom pressure; if I grimace, it lessens the tension on the sides.

    But I pucker more. It’s clear the acid is strongest at the top and bottom of my mouth.

    The acid is strongest at the top and bottom. It isn’t a full-mouth sensation; it doesn’t surround my mouth. 

    Taking a sip after the Albariño, the roof-and-bottom palate “sandwich” feels even more extreme. I only want to pucker to counteract the crushing horizontal lines.

    The Albariño Anvil: Fento Wines Eulogio Pomares “Bico da Ran” 2025 (Rías Baixas, Spain)

    • Aroma:  lemon and lime peel and zest.
    • Flavors: crisp and zesty, intensely lemon and lime, with layers of zest, peel and pith.
    • Acid: High, prickly all over mouth. Almost like a spritz-like mouthfeel. 

    At first sip, the wine threatens to occupy a full square shape. But as I focused, the sensation on the roof of my mouth subsides. The acid migrates entirely to the columns on the side of each cheek. 

    It created a shape more like this:

    I————–I

    Basically, it was an anvil…or just the sides of the box. I think that Master of Wine Nick Jackson in his book “Beyond Flavour” referred to it as “wall-to-wall.”

    Sipping the Albariño directly after the Assyrtiko highlights this contrast beautifully: the center clears out, and the acid clamps down hard on the cheeks.

    The Structural Summary: Closing the Box

    The Assyrtiko stretched across my palate, but it was far more than a flat line. It built the horizontal boundaries—the floor and the ceiling—like a structural sandwich.

    The Albariño reached across my mouth, but it wasn’t a standard linear profile either. It erected the vertical walls on my cheeks, shaping the sides of the box.

    Because these two high-acid, saline, citrus-driven wines can easily be mistaken for one another in a blind tasting, mapping these “square” metaphors is exactly how you solve the puzzle. One wine frames the top and bottom; the other locks in the sides. Together, they complete the square geometry of acid.

  • The Shape of Acid: Up, Down, and All Around

    Acid is more than just high and low. That’s usually the first step in describing a wine—and one of the earliest concepts I understood in my wine education.

    But as my palate developed, I started hearing my fellow students use a whole new vocabulary: vibrant, bright, tingly, austere, energetic.

    I’m sure they’d been saying these words all along. I just hadn’t been ready to hear them.

    As my understanding expanded, so did my confusion.

    Vibrant vs. energetic – what’s the difference? 

    Bright vs. Vivid – aren’t those the same?

    Tingly vs. Prickly – just different words for the same sensation?

    To me, these terms felt subjective. Personal. Not particularly useful when trying to identify a wine—especially in a blind tasting. 

    High, medium, and low made sense. They were fixed. Measurable. Reliable.

    But this new language? It felt…fluid.

    I needed something more structured.

    Then I came across Beyond Flavour: Wine Tasting by Structure by Nick Jackson – and everything clicked.

    Instead of vague descriptors, it offered a framework:

    • Horizontal vs. vertical acid. 
    • Back-palate or tongue. 
    • Square or spherical. 

    These weren’t abstract. They were observable.

    Let’s start the next acid journey with horizonal and vertical.

    The Horizontal vs. Vertical Set-Up

    To compare these shapes, I chose two white wines known for higher acidity: Chardonnay and Riesling.

    Chardonnay for its horizontal acid structure.

    Riesling for its vertical lift.

    To keep variables controlled, I stayed within France where winemaking approaches share some stylistic consistency. A Chardonnay from Burgandy and an Alsace Riesling. Both from the same 2021 vintage to exclude any aging differences.  

    The Burgundy Chardonnay: Louis Jadot Chablis Fourchaume Premier Cru 2021

    • Aroma: Strong, almost pronounced 
    • Flavors: dried herbs (thyme, marjoram), bergamot, lemon peel, green apple, wet stone.
    • Acid: High, with its signature horizontal acid shape.

    The acid is piercing across the tongue and into the sides of my cheeks. My instinct was to pull inward – to protect, to react. My tongue wagged from side-to-side, trying to soften the acidic sharpness. It’s a wide, lateral sensation. A horizontal stretch of my mouth.

    The Alsatian Riesling: Alsace Grand Cru Edmond Rentz 2021

    • Aroma: Medium high aroma, slightly restrained for Riesling, but consistent with France.
    • Flavors: dried lemon, bergamot, flint, hay, oil, petrol, wax.
    • Acid: High, and distinctly vertical.

    The sensation starts under my lower lip, soon being felt on the top of my mouth. It doesn’t spread outward but lifts up through the center of my mouth toward the roof. My response is immediate: a tightening, a pucker.

    The Final Distinction

    These wines had more in common than expected:

    • Higher levels of aroma and acid
    • overlapping flavors (although some distinct differences)
    • minimal to no oak influence
    • minimal aging characteristics

    But the shape of their acid was unmistakably different. 

    The Chardonnay stretched outward – wide, lateral, pushing across the palate.

    The Riesling lifted upward – focused, vertical, driving through the center of my mouth.

    Same level of acid. Completely different experience. 

  • Fish Out of Water…or Just Out of Wine?

    When I first started in the various wine classes – at a local winery or through monthly Smithsonian tastings, I was like everyone else: just looking to try a few new wine  without committing to a full bottle…in case I didn’t like what was inside. 

    Some were there to explore. Some were deeply passionate. Some just needed a Friday night activity during Covid. And a few were tagging along in support of the wine lover in their life. 

    I fell somewhere in those first two groups.

    When I started Wine & Spirits Education Trust (WSET), that international certification institution in wine, spirits, beer, and more, I found a similar mix. 

    Level 1 was a 2-day weekend course with about 10 other casual drinkers learning the basics.

    By Level 2, things escalated. Six weeks of classes, a larger group, and a few few wine professionals joining in.

    Then came Level 3.

    Longer classes. 

    Deeper dive into regions, climate, soil, vineyard management, and winemaking. Nearly 100 grape varieties to memorize. Essays. Blind tastings.

    And suddenly, I was one of only two people not “in the business.” 

    My classmates? Sommeliers, distributors, wine shop managers.

    Me?

    “I’m a boring government policy wonk. She sells it, he recommends it, they distribute it… I just buy and drink it. Thank you, next.”

    ——————–

    That dynamic didn’t change in Level 4.

    Many of us moved through the Diploma together, including one retired classmate who spent every fall volunteering at a vineyard harvest. 

    Meanwhile, I kept hearing that old Sesame Street tune in my head:

    “One of these things is not like the other…one of these things just doesn’t belong.”

    I’d felt it before – when I was performing flying trapeze in my 50s alongside performers in their 20s.

    And now? Same song. Different setting. Same feeling. 

    ——————-

    My classmates had a head start.

    They knew vineyard names, producers, and regions far beyond “France” or “Napa” – we’re talking St. Emilion, Stellenbosch, and Carneros. 

    When we started writing full tasting essays – a full page essay per wine – they were already discussing structure, acid, tannin, and finish.

    I was still swirling my glass.

    Acid? My knowledge was based in 2 years of college chemistry. 

    Body? That Bellamy Brothers song now replaced that Sesame Street ditty. 

    —————

    While I certainly was playing a lot of catch up, I learned my strengths.

    I could identify flavors with precision. 

    Not just citrus, but bergamot peel. 

    Not just floral, but a slightly bruised magnolia blossom that has just fallen from the tree. 

    Not just meaty, but smoked, thinly sliced prosciutto. 

    Tannins made sense to me, too.

    Not just “stalky” – stalky like celery, not asparagus. There’s a difference! 

    Not just “ripe” –ripe like a fresh picked black plum. 

    Not just “green” – green like an underripe strawberry, not raspberry. 

    I still found myself struggling.

    Someone recommended, Beyond Flavour by Nick Jackson – a deep dive into how wine feels, not just tastes.

    It helped. A lot. 

    Now with a few years of tasting and learning under my belt, I combined this new knowledge to create the full picture…or full glass!

    I would have loved to have had some of these basics like “this is high acid, this is low acid” lessons. 

    Something like “this wine’s acid is felt all around your mouth vs. this wine’s acid is felt only at the sides of your mouth.” 

    Once I started thinking about wine that way – physically, structurally – everything changed. 

    My tasting improved. My exam performance improved.

    More importantly, I understood why I liked what I liked…and why I didn’t like those wines that just weren’t for me. 

    So that’s where we’re starting.

    For my first series of posts, we’re diving into acid.

    Side-by-side comparisons.

    High vs. low.

    How acid feels and moves in your mouth. Get ready for some puckering!